


Through The Glass

by themeparkbrain



Category: Everything Everything, Glee, klaine - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bad at tagging, BadBoy!Blaine, Blaine Anderson Angst, Eventual Smut, Everything's gay, FUCK, Fanfiction, Fluff, GAY GAY GAY, Gay, Glee - Freeform, Glee AU, Glee Crossover, Glee smut, Klaine, Klaine fanfiction, Kurt Hummel - Freeform, M/M, Smut, blaine anderson - Freeform, blaine anderson fanfiction, blaine anderson fluff, blaine anderson smut, bye, everything everything - Freeform, everything everything book, everything everything crossover, everything everything movie, glee angst, glee fanfiction, glee fluff, i dont even know, im a mess, klaine AU, klaine angst, klaine fluff, kurt hummel fluff, kurt hummel smut, okay, probably more but im bad at tagging, sick!Kurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 02:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13378137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themeparkbrain/pseuds/themeparkbrain
Summary: Kurt Hummel wasn’t very excited to turn eighteen, but then again, no one would be if they’ve spent and will spend their entire life locked away in their home due to a deathly illness. However, Kurt has to make the decision of whether love was worth dying for when he meets BlaineGlee/Everything Everything crossoverWarning: I don't own the rights to this story, characters, or basically anything other than the fact that I'm writing in my own words.





	Through The Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! So first thing’s first, I want to apologize in case the writing in this is a little bit wonky as it’s been quite awhile since I’ve written a fanfiction, and I’ve never actually written for Klaine before. I’ve been going through a lot of writers block with the novel I’ve been working on, so I figured maybe writing something else would help clear out my brain. Although warning: THIS IS NOT MY IDEA. This writing is based off of the book and recently released movie “Everything Everything,” so I do not own any ideas tied to this nor do I wish to take credit for it. I highly recommend you read the book, see the movie, or both, because it is truly an amazing story. However, you do not need to know the storyline in order to read this as it tells the story from beginning to end, just with different characters. 
> 
> Read it on:  
> Tumblr: https://sonderhealy.tumblr.com/post/169719763441/through-the-glass  
> Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/522316383-through-the-glass-klaine-chapter-one

I love my little white room. It’s all I’ve ever known, and although it could sometimes be torturous, it was my home. Today is my eighteenth birthday, which means in a few months, it will be eighteen years since I’ve experienced the wonders of nature outside of my window. I don’t remember what it’s like as I couldn’t even walk the last time I was out there, but I like to believe that I know enough from reading about it.  
  
Books are most of the color in my little white room. Stories are the only place where I can go outside and for a very short time- feel like I’m actually alive. I’ve dreamt about what would happen if I did go outside. When she was alive, my mother would always avoid giving me a straight answer whenever I asked, probably because she didn’t want to think about losing me, but once she was gone, I managed to convince my father to tell me.  
  
I was nine years old when I had managed to build up the courage to ask him, but part of me was terrified that he’d do exactly what my mother did: switch the subject as quickly as possible before telling me to go play in my bedroom. A part of me however, knew that he wouldn’t do anything like that. My father was the type of man to not keep any secrets from anyone, whether he hated them or not. He knew I deserved to know the dangers that could come to me if I ever stepped a foot out onto the front porch, but that didn’t stop his hands from shaking when he explained it all to me.  
  
“Well, kiddo,” he began, running his hands over his face as he tried to gather the right words to say. He knew that even though I should know, the thought of becoming ill and passing away is terrifying for any child to think about. “As you know by now, SCID isn’t very common, but for most people who do have it, it weakens their immune system, meaning it’s a lot easier for you to get sick. There are already a lot of diseases that float around outside, even for healthy people, so we have to make sure you don’t get exposed to it, and that’s why we have that room that separates the house from the front door. It cleans the air once the front door shuts, but everyone who comes in still has to wash their hands to be safe. That’s what Rachel does everytime she comes over.”  
  
Rachel is probably the only friend I have besides my dad, even though she’s technically not a friend, she’s my nurse. My mom used to work at a children’s hospital when she was alive, so every morning and every night, she would take my temperature, blood pressure, and pretty much do any test she could perform to make sure I was healthy. But after she passed, my dad hired Rachel to look after me while he was at work. We did pretty much everything together that normal friends would do. We watched movies from the huge collection my dad had, we talked about her love life and even all of the amazing friends she made in high school. I did feel sorry for her though, because a few years ago, her boyfriend had passed away. She never talked about why, and neither did my dad, even though I knew she had told him. I didn’t know about it until she came back from a month break she had took to sort out her mental state. She had always talked about Finn like he truly was the love of her life, and I believed her that he was.  
I had never really thought much about love until Rachel started telling me about hers. I mainly read books about adventurers exploring jungles, or going back in time to meet dinosaurs, but I had never even owned a book that had any form of romance in it. That was until Rachel started bringing me books from the outside. My dad wouldn’t have been happy if he found out, so she always wrapped them in newspaper and hid them in her bag when she came over. I was fourteen years old when she first gave me one, and the look on my face once she handed it over was absolutely priceless in her eyes.  
  
“Why would I want to read something like this?” I asked with a scowl settled on my lips. Rachel let out a gentle laugh and shook her head, finding my ignorance quite amusing. I didn’t say it, but that was the first time I had heard her laugh since Finn had died two months before. “Why wouldn’t you? I know you’re a boy, Kurt, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t like stuff like this,” she argued. I looked up at the woman stood in front of me and crossed my scrawny arms over my chest with a pout. “I’m not a baby. My mom used to read me love stories about princes and princesses. I don’t like that kind of stuff. It’s completely ridiculous.”  
  
“Just try it, squirt,” she sighed, holding the paperback book out in front of her, shaking it slightly in an attempt to tell me to take it. I hesitated for a moment, but I wanted Rachel to be happy, so I took the book from her hand in defeat. “Alright, but you owe me big time.”  
  
I didn’t know how much cheesy romance novels would affect me until I was bored enough to crack open one of the books. It wasn’t at all like the fairy tales my mother had read me as a child. It was so much more mature, and for the first time, I was able to join Rachel in her conversations about love, except she began to become a bit confused, and I didn’t understand why.  
  
“Kurt, uhm- do you imagine yourself being in those stories?” She asked gently, reaching a hand over and resting it comfortingly on my knee, over my own hand. At first I was too terrified to admit it, but since I knew I could trust Rachel, I slowly nodded my head, not being able to help the pink blush that rose to my cheeks. Her eyes seemed to widen a bit as she looked around the room for a few moments. When she stood up and made her way over to my bedroom door, I began to panic a little bit. It felt like I had done something wrong, but I couldn’t think of anything that I could have possibly done. My heart rate picked up as she peered into the hallway, her head turning to look around the dimly lit corridor. My father was in bed at that point in the night, so it was no one but Rachel and I, but she still felt the need to check. She carefully shut the door as she stepped back inside, trying to make sure the noise didn’t wake my mother before she sat back down in her space in front of me on the carpet.  
“Sweetheart, when you think about it, do you see yourself being with the girl or the boy?” She asked tentatively. I had never seen Rachel like this before. She seemed nervous, almost cautious, like she was trying to keep something very fragile from breaking.  
  
I had never really thought about much that before she brought it up. I had never really been exposed to people who liked the same gender, so I didn’t even think it was a possibility. All I knew was that I could feel my heart racing every time the man in the story kissed the back of the woman’s hands. Every time a sweet nickname fell from his lips, I would blush profusely and hide my face in my pillow out of habit. I became obsessed with the idea of being in love, but no matter how much I ached to be able to experience it in real life, I had never thought about who it would be with.  
  
I bit my bottom lip in thought before my gaze raised back up to meet Rachel’s comforting brown eyes. “I don’t know, I never really thought much about it..” I mumbled almost inaudibly. I could tell that Rachel was thinking deeply into what she was saying by the way her forehead crinkled in thought.  
  
“Well, I want you to know something very important. I’ve never experienced it myself, but that doesn’t mean it’s not normal. You’ve read in books that women and men are the ones who are in relationships together, right?” She asked in her soft and gentle voice. I was a bit confused as to where the conversation was going at the time, but I nodded my head nonetheless to let her continue. “Alright, well, that’s not always the case. Some boys and girls don’t feel any attraction towards the opposite sex of theirs. Some girls discover that they like girls, and some boys discover that they like boys. Although some people may think it’s strange or unusual, it’s a natural thing that kids your age experience, and it’s only getting more common as time goes on.”  
  
I tried my best to listen to every word Rachel spoke, but it was a bit difficult with one of her sentences constantly echoing in my head. ‘Some boys discover that they like boys.’ It was like a whole new side of the world had opened up and I was finally seeing clear. Other people just like me felt the way I felt when I read those books. Other people were dating people of the same sex, and that was completely okay. I could fall in love with whoever I want, and it didn’t mean that there was something wrong with me.  
  
After Rachel had given me a kiss on the forehead goodbye that night and left to go home, I immediately got my laptop and began to do research. There were so many blogs and articles about this kind of thing, and some were even written by people who experienced it. I found the word for it, and for the first time, I was completely okay with putting a label on myself.  
  
I’m Kurt Hummel, and I’m gay.  
  
I didn’t tell my dad about it for a really long time, because I didn’t think I had to. I didn’t know what ‘coming out’ was a thing that gay people had to do. Besides, I had heard so many horror stories online about people’s parents not accepting them, so I figured that he couldn’t be upset if it just happened naturally after I met someone. Rachel and I spent days sat in the small seats in front of my large window just talking about what my dream guy would look like, but in all honesty, I didn’t care. I was happy just knowing that I wasn’t alone  
  
In all honesty, I expected to feel something once I turned eighteen. I was finally an adult, but then again, I still couldn’t do most things that adults could. Adults have been in relationships, they have friends, they have goals and a future to pave, and all I can do is sit at my window and wish I was normal.  
  
I love my home, but not like most people do. Most people love their home because it’s a place of safety and comfort, but I love my home because I have to. It’s the only place I can go and the only people I can share it with are my dad and Rachel. I love them both, but I wish I could meet more people. The two of them had decided to paint one of my bedroom walls like a rainforest as a present about a week ago, but I wasn’t all that excited about it. I would lay awake in bed in the early hours of the morning and stare at it. It wasn’t helping me, it was taunting me. It was just a constant reminder of what I’ll never have. Freedom.  
  
I had spent all morning thinking about just that. Freedom. It was unimaginable how much I would give just to be able to walk down my street and feel the asphalt of the road against the soft pads of my feet. So many other examples of things I would do scanned through my mind before I was suddenly jolted out of thought by the sound of a car door being shut. It wasn’t slammed, but it was just forceful enough for me to hear from my second story bedroom. I could hear the faint sound of voices coming from outside, but the three I could pick apart were completely unfamiliar to me.  
  
Curiosity crept into my mind at the sound however, and I couldn’t help but stand and make my way over to the window that peered out into the front yard. I noticed a dark blue pickup truck I had never seen before in the driveway next door. No one had lived in that house for at least five years, so I presumed that they were probably new owners. At first I could only see two people, a young man in a leather jacket, and an older man with slightly similar characteristics. The stranger’s voices were faint through the thick glass of my bedroom window, but I could hear the man with the leather jacket laughing before another person stepped out of the truck.  
  
It was another male, but he looked younger than the other two men. I had spent a lot of time on the internet over the past eighteen years, but he was definitely the most attractive person I had ever laid my eyes on. He was dressed in quite casual clothes, a black t-shirt, some skinny jeans, and some worn down sneakers, but his curly hair was styled perfectly, framing his face like it was made for it. I couldn’t see much else from where I was sat, but part of me could tell he was probably much more gorgeous up close. Before I could bring myself to stop staring, the boy’s head lifted and our eyes met. My heart didn’t just race, it completely stopped, but I didn’t panic. I was too transfixed on his grin to care. I couldn’t take my eyes away as he walked into the house, but once he was gone, I couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh. It sounded pretty sad, but that was the most exciting experience I had had in awhile.  
  
The rest of my birthday was just like any other. I spent a good amount of time sat on a blank word document just staring. I had tried writing before, figuring it was something productive I could do if I was going to be stuck in my house for the rest of my life, but I never felt like I had anything to write about. I could try and write a fictional story, but I never thought I’ve had enough experience to be able to write anything. I have a rare condition, but it wasn’t interesting- it was dull.  
  
My attention was suddenly pulled away from my laptop screen when the chiming of a doorbell rang through the house. My eyes drifted to watch my father stand up from the other end of the couch and into the sealed room between the living room and the front door. It wasn’t often that we got visitors, so I quietly followed him, pressing my ear to the wall next to the glass door of the sealed room. “Do I know you two?” My dad asked. Everything was a bit muffled through the wall, but it was the only option I had to hear the conversation.  
  
“No, sir,” a male’s voice spoke. “We just moved in next door and our mother made bundt cakes for each of our neighbors. It’s kind of her way of apologizing.”  
  
My dad raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Apologizing for what?”  
  
“For moving in,” an unfamiliar voice cut in. It was a bit higher than the first, and I could only assume that it was the boy I had witnessed before.  
  
There was a few moments of silence before my dad spoke up once again. “Well, it was very kind of you to bring this over, but I’m afraid I can’t take it. It’s a bit of a complicated situation. Thank you though.”  
  
There was more silence, and I was sure my father was going to tell them to leave, but the boy was the one to speak up his time, “Is your son home?” I could feel my heart practically stop in my chest. He wanted to speak to me just as much as I wanted to speak to him. I could practically see myself just running outside to meet him in the crisp evening air, but it was only my imagination.  
  
My father hesitated for a moment before finding the right words to respond with. “No, he’s not.” I could feel my chest grow heavy at his tone of voice. It sounded protective, but in a way, it was also assertive. “Tell your mother I said thank you for the gesture, and welcome to the neighborhood.” I could hear the two men begin to speak before they were cut off by the sound of the glass door sliding shut.  
  
This was my chance. I had to let him know I was there. I sprinted upstairs as fast as my legs could take me. I nearly ran into the window due to myself almost slipping at my sudden halt. There he was, making his way from our front door and back over to his own. However, he did stop before going inside, taking one last glance up at my prison cell before our eyes met. His lips stretched into a warm smile as he sent me a small wave with his hand that wasn’t holding the bundt cake. I couldn’t help the heat rising to my cheeks at the way his face brightened at the sight of me. I waved back before I was suddenly brought back to reality by the sound of my father calling up the stairs.  
  
“Hey, Kurt! What do you want for dinner?”  
  
“I’d like to know what I bundt cake tastes like!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post on this website, so make sure to comment to let me know what you think, and leave kudos!  
> Thank you!  
> \- kat


End file.
